


You're Forgiven

by parabatai_bond



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst is how i vent, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Infinity War, Other, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), This movie makes me wanna die, angsty drabble type thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14533674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parabatai_bond/pseuds/parabatai_bond
Summary: MAJOR INFINITY WAR SPOILERS DONT EVEN READ THE SUMMARY OR LIKE EVEN THE TAGS WHAT ARE YOU DOING ONLINE ANYWAYS IF YOU HAVE'NT SEEN THE MOVIEAnyways; it's just a drabble type thing about Tony's grief. He isn't coping too well





	You're Forgiven

_Mr. Stark_

_I don’t feel so good_

Every word. Every step. Every movement. Every breath. Everything Peter had done in those last thirty seconds of his heartachingly short life, Tony had memorized. Stuck on a constant loop inside his mind. Every time the cycle of painful memories restarted, Tony felt sick to his stomach. The blood in his veins was replaced with an acid. His head hurt; as did his chest and his neck and his eyes and pretty much any other body part of his. So he drank.

All the time.

_I don’t-I don’t know what’s happening_

Peter was seventeen. Seventeen years old. He didn’t know how to drive. Being in a big city all his life, he never had to. Peter never got to go out and have his first drink; or at least his first legal one. He never got to travel in his gap year, a big dream he’d had before he became Spider-Man. As Spider-Man he only got to be an Avenger for a very short amount of time. He never got to meet Steve Rogers, a friend, no, _family_ , rather than Captain America, his enemy. He never got to be a part of the entire Avengers family. Nor will he ever be.

_I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go_

A piece of Tony was missing. Someone had reached inside of him and ripped out his right lung. Or maybe it was his stomach. Or his kidneys. Or maybe all three. Perhaps even the rest of his organs. He felt so empty inside. But of course, the alcohol had to go somewhere, so at the very least his digestive system was in tact. No matter how much he drank, it wasn’t filling the void the way he wanted it to-the way he needed it to.

There’s been a hole in his chest for a while, but now it feels like he could reach in and his hand would come out the other side.

_Mr. Stark, please- **please** , I don't wanna go, please_

It’s so vivid in Tony’s mind. The exact sound of his feet scuffing the rocks as he collapsed into him. How tightly he was holding onto his chest. The expression of his face the fear, _the pure terror_. He remembered which syllables cracked in the boy’s voice and how high they cracked and _exactly_ how long they cracked for. In that moment he felt so useless, so insignificant so much so that he couldn’t breathe; neither when he thought about it nor when it was happening in the moment. He was dying in Tony’s arms and he could think to say anything other than “ _You’re alright_.” But he wasn’t alright. He was de- . . . gone. Tony didn’t do anything, it was his fault. He could’ve done more, there’s always more that he could do. He always lets somebody down.

Tony looked down at the cup he was holding, a shot of whiskey twirling in the bottom. He lost count of how many he’d had today. In one fluid movement, he stood up and hurled the glass at the wall. It shattered and shrieked out in grief, a splatter of alcohol staining where it hit.

 

_**I’m sorry** _


End file.
